I am the lord of the zombies
I am the mattress king
I will beat any offer
I will drink anything

You cannot hurt me with bullets
Except the hurting kind
You can't kick me off this barstool
It's where I met my young bride

She called herself Salmonella
She was the cruel sort
She left me here in Wisconsin
I left her ten dollars short

'Cause you can't love the mattress king
If big-time values are not your thing
When the world sleeps peacefully
I will reign over everything

I am the big man on campus
But see how I'm reduced
The kings of other industries
And I have made a truce
With bargain basement prices
On items almost new
Now I can finance a heartbreak
And pass the pain on to you

I'm not the man in the mirror
I'm not the one to boast
I'm just the one that cooks and eats
The breast of beast the most
And when you ask me my talent
I'll stare you down and state
"I'm the guy that makes the other guys like me
Look slightly out of date."

When you get me down
I think about getting back
But you never are around
When the time comes to attack
So I sit and bide my time
Til the day I stand my ground
Cause when I get around to it
I really get around

City in my way
It won't be there for long
I just think of what you'd say
When you'd tell me I was wrong
And stomp it all to hell
This city's goin' down
Cause when I go to town on it
I really go to town

I'll rearrange your map
If you show up again
I'm fed up with your crap
I've had it up to here with men
And here is pretty high
And there's not far at all
When you're as tall as I
When you've got my stride

Concrete between my toes
A smell of gasoline
Like a cybernetic rose
All blown to smithereens
You should have seen your face
When I should have smashed it in
I guess that's what I'll show you
If we ever meet again

I really get around
I really go to town
You may have knocked me up
But I will knock you down

Brand's got an essence of chicken
So fucking traditional
You buy six bottles of fluid
You get an exquisite porcelain bowl
You stack them up in the pantry
And when you've got enough
You've got a whole lot of useless stuff

Every time I see you
Regardless of my choice
I hear ridiculous promises
Recited in your voice
I'll write them down in a notebook
And when I've got enough
I'll have a whole lot of useless stuff

This essence of chicken is insufficiently traditional!
This porcelain bowl is insufficiently exquisite!
Reality does not meet my needs!
This device has incorrect properties!

I'll put a song on the jukebox
I get to pick the name
I'll call it "Everything You Ever
Say Or Think Is Lame"
It's not that much of a title
But I hope it will convey
Just what it is I am trying to say

I'm keeping a bit of a secret
I don't mind if I do
I can't believe I ever wanted
To be in bed with you
No time left to say that I'm sorry
I think I've said enough
I've said a whole lot of useless stuff

This song on the jukebox is insufficiently traditional!
This secret I'm keeping is insufficiently exquisite!
Reality does not meet my needs!
This device has incorrect properties!

I thought I'd drain the ocean, then I put it off a day
To get things done, procrastination is the only way
Standing by the pool, I was sitting on my thumbs
Waiting for the day when tomorrow comes

I shuffled through the classifieds and I made my way to you
I thought you'd ask the little tasks you never found the time to do
Instead you needed someone to recycle all your sins
Put the plastic ones in the color-coded bins

Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow again
Don't give out to the doubt that turns up now and then
Why tell a story when all of the glory goes to
Those unskilled who will build the memorial?
Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow again

We had our fights, the sleepless nights, the copy and the paste
Now all that's left is memories, but memories can be erased
You said I was a gentleman, but you used me as a pawn
And I wonder where you'll be when tomorrow's gone

Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow and see
Don't give out what you think when you talk about me
Don't believe everything you read when you read my lips
I was never that good at relationships
Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow and see

Call me son, but don't expect a resurrection
Grab your gun and run in the wrong direction
Stare with eyes gouged out at the imperfection
One for fun and one for the insurrection
Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow again

The tide goes out: another notch to carve into my belt
This archive of the things you've done won't capture how you felt
Tomorrow's spent and wasted; it'll never come again
Take my place in the line of your California men

Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow and still
Don't do the imbecile things I suspect that you will
Mistakes shouldn't be made, certainly not re-made
But we're still counting all the ones that we made
Wait for tomorrow, wait for tomorrow and still

In the autumn, when the sun is falling
In the evening, when the birds are calling
I will do the thing I find appalling
I will sit with you

Sweet & lowbrow are the words you whisper
Mental voices call: "Go on and kiss her!"
Like a lettuce wilting in the crisper
What am I to do?

In my mind's eye, like a premonition
I see you, a star, on television
Not to flaunt your skill at long division
But to merely breathe

Sweet & lowbrow the unguarded border
Twixt my judgement and the standing order
Not to see the solid-state recorder
Hidden up your sleeve

Now, I'm out of time
I'll splay it on the spline
The colors all combine
The point is: now the point is moot
She thinks I'm kind of cute
It seems the leg's on the other boot now

In the meantime, back in Sausalito
You were crushing me like a mosquito
Tears were falling into my burrito
I was so ashamed

Sweet & lowbrow were the promises you made
The ways you told me not to be afraid
The friendships you eventually betrayed
But never ever named

Now, you're in plain sight
You can no longer hide
The time is nearly right
The time is now, the point is moot
She thinks I'm kind of cute
It seems the leg's on the other boot now

In your bedroom, like a common looter
Music that I found on your computer
Proved I was not your ideal suitor
I was swept away

Sweet & lowbrow were your girl aesthetics
Tearing me apart like Dianetics
Broke my heart, but I can get prosthetics
I will be okay

Now, washed up and out
You get by on your pout
Speak up, remove all doubt
The thing is, now the point is moot
She thinks I'm kind of cute
It seems the leg's on the other boot now

This document (source) is part of Crummy, the webspace of Leonard Richardson (contact information). It was last modified on Sunday, July 29 2007, 13:42:24 Nowhere Standard Time and last built on Tuesday, November 20 2018, 00:00:01 Nowhere Standard Time.